Trick or Treat
by chichitehahh
Summary: After being challenged into staying at McKinley overnight Rachel gets the surprise of her lifetime; a kiss from the last person she would ever expect to receive one from. One-shot.


**_I was in desperate need of some inspiration, and there is no better time for me to do so than when Halloween is coming up. It's by far my favorite holiday, so this is what you get; Me challenging myself with something I've never done before. I left it the way it is so that if I so chose I could return to it and continue, but as of right now I have no intentions of doing so anytime soon. It is here literally just to inspire and challenge me. It's a ship and writing style I have never done before! And I hope everyone enjoys it._**

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_October 31st_

I find it highly improbable that any of the actions I write about are legal, some of them I'm doubting are even possible. One does not get kissed in the black abyss of no lighting for zero reason. Or, perhaps I should phrase it better; one does not get kissed by a female in the black abyss for no reason. No, that still isn't quite correct as I'm sure there are more than enough reasons for someone to kiss a girl as pretty as Quinn Fabray or Santana Lopez in the dark, but me? Rachel Berry the loser of McKinley? The girl that had just been dumped by Finn for kissing Puck who quite frankly embarrassingly declined my moves on him to hurt Finn as deeply as he hurt me. No there wasn't any reason to kiss me, let alone a female.

As I write down these very words, my eyes search for the possible perpetrators lips. Ones plump, gentle, and oh so soft. If I had been given the chance I would have kissed back.

That's quite deranged when thought about fully, but that kiss, it left me with an ache for more from a complete stranger and I'm not quite sure why or even how they managed to do so. It's not the first unbelievable thing that's happened. The fact that I am here, in McKinley, after hours, the door unlocked using some trick that Noah had apparently been taught in Juvie, is one miracle. The other is the fact that I stayed for as long as I did, then the kiss, and now losing myself in my own mystery romance.

For those that did come, it left my suspects slim. Immediately I could cross off Quinn, Santana and Brittany. Although, the latter of the three might not be scratched off so early, there have been many a times I have overheard Brittany speak of kissing for the sake of kissing. She didn't hold any sentimental value to such actions.

My suspect list is now without Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez. This leaves me with Tina Cohen-Chang, Mercedes Jones, and Brittany Pierce. Perhaps this is ill-timed, but I am now noticing the lack of female leads we have in glee club.

*Note: Recruit more female voices. Refrain from telling anyone about them until you have heard their voice first.

Nonetheless, I will find the one that oh so cleverly forced their lips upon mine. Though if it were to happen again, I may change my word force to something much less accusatory and well…cruel.

_~Later._ This entire idea was poorly thought through, Noah's idea of the perfect Halloween 'prankarty' combo has failed utterly despite what others may think. The food is melting or getting cold. The beverages are all spiked, and the halls are far too terrifying to venture out towards. Upon my complaints Noah only stated the following: "It's a Halloween Party, you're supposed to be scared. Live it up, Berry. Have fun for once, go find out what it even means."

Even now as I write his words down I'm offended. Simply because my definition is different from his he feels my version is wrong. It's very characteristic and predictable if I'm being honest. It's the entire club's idea of me, and while I essentially created this club to ensure that my stardom shone brightly throughout McKinley, it would be that it's only making my shine dim as a sacrifice to others.

I'm getting off track. I know that I have a mission, to find this secret admirer. At least that was my prayer, because if this were some prank then not only will my efforts be wasted but my entire sanity gone.

I inquired two of the three about their whereabouts just five minutes ago, Brittany's only response was an 'ew' thrown my way (though I couldn't exactly tell if she was actually speaking to me as she refused to create any eye contact) and Mercedes had claimed to be off with Kurt discussing what they'd be doing the next afternoon.

Upon further questioning I found her alibi to be solid.

A thought has occurred to me, perhaps a male could kiss as gingerly as a female, my only experiences may have given me the wrong idea. Noah was a much more passionate kisser than Finn, and while I couldn't be for sure I was almost certain that the reason for Finn's clumsiness was due to not only his size but his lack of experience. From my understanding Quinn was his first girlfriend in high school besides a few dates. So maybe I had judged too quickly, which now left my suspect list as follows.

Tina Cohen-Chang

Mike Chang

Sam Evans (highly unlikely with his lips)

Artie Abrams (However this may be scratched out now as he sits and I was standing at the time)

So, in reality it was more along the lines of Mike or Tina. While Mike was handsome I had never had a conversation with him, and Tina...well….Tina would never be able to handle being with someone that was going to have an epic life of stardom and cameras and show tunes.

My investigation has only just started, but it seems that Noah has a trick up his sleeve for the evening, perhaps something to liven the place up. While others are having fun, I can only feel it's attributed to those drinks they have been pouring themselves all night. I am being dragged into a game of truth or dare it seems, though I can tell everyone that will one day read this (as I plan on putting excerpts of my diary into my biography for fans such as yourselves) I am not the least bit excited.

_~Later._ Is it too late to leave? I seem to have lost myself in the halls. Damn Noah. Damn him and this idiotic attempt at his kind of fun. Damn me and my inability to back down from a challenge. I was duped into this and I am now finding just how every leading actress finds themselves in every horror film; alone, terrified, jumping at every-

Dear readers if anyone has a chance to read this, my killer is average size, though I can't make out whether they are female or male from this distance. They walk with a feminine touch, however the killer may be Kurt as well to try and defeat his only competition. Either way they are headed my way and I feel my fate coming to an end. It's all over. I haven't even gotten to be awarded my Tony. I already have my speech planned out. If this is ever found please hand this over to my fathers as they will have to read it out while attending my funeral. Finn Hudson must attend and if anyone catches him without a tear then he was the one to order this atack (It couldn't be him walking this way to kill me as I'd be even more horrified by the size of my attacker's silhouette).

_~Later._ It was only Quinn. If I had any weapon I would have struck her by mistake. She should know better than to walk up on people without announcing themselves in a dark hallway. I can still hear my heart beating, she's taken me to the Cheerio lounge, apparently somewhere in her deranged mind Coach Sylvester thought ahead to a disaster and kept flashlights around. While I am grateful for the help, I am getting stared at, not by Quinn but by the lack of people in the darkness surrounding us. The locker room is much darker than one would suspect. There must be a killer here, it would be the prime spot, showers to drown out screaming, a boom box to mask any sound….Quinn may be my killer after all.

I've tried multiple times to turn the light on, but it seemed the power was out (an only further sign that I was being led to my death by fate. Or perhaps Quinn. The lead is never the first to die and every audience is meant to expect the unexpected).

As we made our way back through the halls, I found my curiosity getting the better of me, though I am almost certain she wasn't the one to have kissed me. Still, the shape of her lips, the fact that I know she uses a flavored chapstick (as I have seen the colorful cpas on more than one occasion and my suspect definitely was wearing some sort of peppermint) and the silence she held around me almost constantly since we bonded over….something beyond my knowledge last year, it begs a few questions.

My exact words when asking may not have been the best, but how else could one ask such a thing as "What chapstick do you use?" without looking either foolish or entirely strange?

Her response was just as abrupt, annoyance lacing her tone as we rounded a corner: "I don't know, Berry. Pineapple, melon, it varies, why?"

"No reason." I had squeaked out quickly, not willing to ruin whatever it was still somehow making it possible for me to talk with someone like Quinn. So high on the social ladder already. She had so much more strength than anyone could understand, which was incredibly amazing as it was so painfully easy to see.

_~Later._

Quinn Fabray

Tina Cohen-Chang

Mike Chang

I have decided to rid Sam and Artie from my list prematurely as I know they simply could not have been my admirer. Sam too tall (my admirer kissed me head on without needing to lean forward) and Artie needed to have stood which we all know is quite impossible as he is in a wheelchair.

I have yet to think of the proper technique to go about the rest of my search, though I have added Quinn, as unlikely and more than likely hopeful as that is, as a possibility simply for her actions once we returned to the room. I have never been defended in the club before, mostly due to the group agreeing with each other the near exact moment something was mentioned at my fault. But when Noah criticized me for wandering off during my dare to steal Figgins name plate, Quinn had jumped down his throat about what an idiotic dare it had been in the first place. I never got to thank her, as she returned to Santana's side, mumbling to her with a roll of her eyes.

Of course, when Finn approached me to lightly tease me over the fact that I had gotten lost, no one jumped to my defense. Probably because they thought it was him attempting to mend whatever he could mend on his part, but mostly it was to hurt me.

"If you hadn't have cheated, maybe I would've been there to help you." His non-committal shrug at the end really annoyed me more than it hurt. In fact, as I think back, all of it annoyed me. It wasn't as if I had been the only one to do any wrong. He lied about sleeping with Santana. Of all the girls it had to be Santana. Not Quinn or Brittany but Santana. The thought still brings my blood to a boil and I'm still conflicted on if I should hate him or thank him for giving me something to look back on and draw from for when I would need the kind of fury I feel when thinking of such a thing.

_~Later._

"No, but ask Sam, he practically lives with Chapstick in his pocket at all times." Sam Evans has now been placed back on my list. Mike Chang is off. Tina's obvious lack of interaction with me (not a glance nor a flicker of eye contact) has taken her off. It leaves Quinn and Sam. The only two that is now leaving me to believe I dreamt it. I must have, for the two left are the unlikeliest of people at this point. I can't seem to fathom either of them kissing someone like me. Quinn has shown her obvious distaste for me, and Sam has nearly never acknowledged my existence in a way that was ever romantic. This task is becoming more and more daunting. And I am only left to wonder if it was all just a dream. Even now I am beginning to think I am writing in a journal that does not actually exist. When I wake up these words will no longer have been written.

I'm being called again, another game Noah has apparently thought up. Perhaps it will be spin the bottle and I will finally know. But with the luck I have been having, it will be anything but. In fact, it will be tame and I will never know who had kissed me.

Curse him.

_~Later._

I have placed the lead of this pencil to the paper multiple times and still have not been able to form actual words. At least, not until now.

My previous assumption was only half right, I would not know my admirer, however we did meet again, in an altered version of heads up seven up, half of us were to hide our faces (though with it being as dark as it was this seemed quite redundant) and the other half picked someone and went to their designated areas to do as they pleased.

It was terrifying, even if any kind of feeling up wasimmediately protested by Quinn who had the unlucky seat beside me. I suppose this crosses her off my list as well given what happened... My heart had never beat as wildly as it had just then, not even when my admirer surprised me with a kiss in the dark.

My thumb was pushed down, a blindfold was placed in my hands, and I followed the rules, placing it over my eyes before I could catch sight of who had picked me.

There was a flaw to Noah's plan, however. I could see, just vaguely, under the bottom of the blindfold. I could see my captors shoes. White sneakers. I couldn't for the life of me remember who wore them this night, I hadn't even thought to look at anyone's shoes. Though I suppose I should have known better. I should have taken in all the details. Everything. I should have made lists. I'll be sure to do this next time. I can't dwell on the fact that I wasn't bright enough to think ahead. Right now I can barely dwell on a single thought for a prolonged period of time. Not with what has just happened.

My captor, it was the one who had kissed me from before. I could tell by the hesitancy, by the fact that they had kissed me again (this time in a much darker room with far less space than the choir room provided). I could tell by the fact that they were kissing me slower this time. They had been given the chance to take advantage of a situation, a chance to take control and allow themselves time.

They took advantage much like myself. I allowed myself to be kissed, but this time I kissed back. Somewhere in my mind I knew this wasn't how I was supposed to be kissed. But I couldn't find any care. I enjoyed it. I liked being kissed by a stranger, I liked that someone wanted me even if they were too ashamed or too scared to admit it openly. I enjoyed the fact that it was all a guessing game, a ramance mystery fullof twist and turns. It was a story to tell my children (of course far more G rated).

The familiar taste of peppermint came to me again, their lips slipping past mine, hand finding my hip. I felt their fingers flicker lightly, as if they were just as scared as I was. As if they were nervous. Yet, their kisses were confident, they actually managed to show both apprehension and confidence at once and it only amazed me more.

Whoever stood before me, kissing me languidly had me so far out of reality that I almost couldn't hear the knocking on the door; the only realization I was given was the slam I heard back, a loud bang coming from my end of the room. It was them, the slamming aggravation of being interrupted, but it seemed that it still managed to kill the mood. For even though it was still dark in the choir room, I could tell the door was opening, and my captor was stepping out, leaving me in a dazed stance of horrifying confusion.

The moment I was able to do so I tore my blindfold off, searching for those white sneakered feet.

Santana Lopez.

The only name that could be put on the list.


End file.
